Death And I Are Head To Head

Death Is Not Soft-mouthed, Vague-footed, Nearby. It Is In The Hall.

I Am Sensible Of The Velocity Of The Moments, And Entering That Part Of My Head Alert To The Motion Of The World I Am Aware That Life Was Never Perfect, Never Absolute. This Bestows Contentment, Even A Fearlessness.

I Am In An Adolescence In Reverse, As Mysterious As The First, Except That This Time I Feel It As A Decay Of The Odds That I Might Live For A While, That I Can Sleep It Off.

Nothing I Have Ever Written Has Been Admired As Much As The Announcement Of My Death.

I Feel Sorry For The Man Who Marries You... Because Everyone Thinks You're Sweet And You're Not.